


Fine Feathers

by glymr, iesika



Series: Kings Among Runaways [17]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Costume Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-14
Updated: 2009-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iesika/pseuds/iesika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No," says Jason when Bruce pulls out the old Robin costume. "Absolutely not."</p><p>Tim looks at him. "What?"</p><p>"You are not wearing those," he says, pointing to the green...panties...and scowling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Feathers

"I still don't believe this," says Jason, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're really serious about this." Bruce and Tim both look at him blankly. "You're going to put us in costumes and train us to fight crime," he clarifies, looking at Bruce.

"Only if it's something you want," says Bruce.

"Well, it's something *Tim* wants." It's true. The first time Bruce mentioned it Tim flushed and _smiled_ , and it wasn't even his triumphant 'we just pulled off a job' smile, it was more like a 'some guy just showed up at my door with a giant check and told me I just won ten million dollars' smile.

"I think you'd enjoy it, Jason," says Tim, and Jason blinks.

"What makes you say that?"

Tim frowns thoughtfully. "Remember when Candy's pimp cut up her face, and you beat him up? Or when you fought with that guy that was hanging around the schoolyards? Or...do you remember how _we_ met? You like being able to...protect people. But right now you have to pick your battles - you couldn't take on that group of bangers directly, for example--"

"Yeah, but *you* took care of them with that  _tricky_ fucking trap--"

Tim lips curve into a small, humorless smile. "Yes, well...the point is that you do this sort of thing all the time _anyway_ , Jason. Instinctively. And with the proper training, you could protect a lot _more_ people."

And just for a second, Jason lets himself think about it. Thinks about being _that_ guy, the one that sweeps down like the vengeance from on-fucking-high, the one that can and _does_ take on a group of bangers single-handed.

It's a pretty picture.

Jason never did trust the pretty ones.

Tim's watching him narrowly. "Working with Batman would mean you could beat up creeps like that _every night_."

And Jason can't help but laugh, and the picture pops like the soap-bubble daydream it is, because Tim says it like he's saying they can eat _ice cream_ every night or something. "You don't think that'll get old after awhile?"

Tim looks from him to Bruce and back to him again. "No," he says simply.

Jason combs his hair back from his head and scowls. "You're both crazy. You know this, right?"

Tim shrugs. "It's what I want. You don't have to do it if you don't want to." A wicked gleam comes into his eyes. "You can be my 'kept man'. I think I'd like that."

Jason just snorts and rolls his eyes. "Like I'm letting you go out there alone."

"Then we're back where we started. What do you want your code name to be? It could have a bird theme..."

"What, like 'Jay'? 'Bluejay'?"

Tim's eyes light up. "Oh, Jason, that's _perfect_!"

Bruce speaks up again. "What about you, Tim?"

Tim flushes and looks away. "I'd like...um." He swallows. "I'd like to be Robin. If it's okay."

 

* * *

 

"No," says Jason when Bruce pulls out the old Robin costume. "Absolutely not."

Tim looks at him. "What?"

"You are _not_ wearing _those_ ," he says, pointing to the green...panties...and scowling.

"But, Jason--"

"No."

"--it's traditional--"

"Tim, you get cold even in the _summer_. You wear that and you'll freeze to death." _And every pervert from here to New York will be staring at your ass, and then I'll have to kill them._

Tim gets a mulish look in his eye. "It's what *Dick* wore," he says with the air of someone offering a clinching argument, and Jason feels that flare of annoyance he's starting to get whenever Tim talks about Dick.

"I don't care if Princess _Diana_ wore it--"

"If I may," says Alfred, and all of them stop and look at him. "I believe one of the earlier designs Richard came up with had tights underneath the, er, shorts," he says, and proffers a notebook filled with colorful sketches done in a childish hand.

Tim accepts it fucking _reverently_ , and Jason sighs and glares at the bright tunic carefully spread across the worktable. "He'll need a lot more body armor than that," he says.

Bruce smiles. "Dick complained bitterly about having to wear even that much."

Jason just shakes his head and picks up the cape. "Yellow?  _Really?_ "

"Dick came from a circus tradition, Jason," says Bruce. "Believe it or not, this was one of the less extreme designs."

"It really was," adds Tim, paging through the notebook and staring. "You should see his new costume," he adds absently.

"Is the cape really necessary, though?"

"It's a Kevlar weave that will offer significantly more protection--"

"Then it should go to the  _ground_. But it should be black."

Tim frowns. "The point of Robin is to draw the eye, Jason, so that Batman can come in from the shadows and take down the criminals."

"To draw their _fire_ , you mean. And what happens when Batman gets whacked on the head? You gonna dodge bullets forever?"

"I'll be *fine*, Jason--"

"He has a point," says Bruce. "You may wish to at least have the _option_ of not standing out."

"In the theatre," Alfred offers, "we used to have costumes that were reversible."

Tim looks up from the book. "Reversible?"

"Yes, the same wrap might serve as a ratty beggar's cloak or a prince's cape, depending on how it was worn. Perhaps a compromise might be in order..."  
  
* * *   
  
A week later, Jason grimaces at himself in the mirror.  "I feel like an idiot," he says, and Tim turns and gasps.

His eyes trace down the skintight, dark gray uniform, then sweep back up to stare at the indigo mask covering Jason's eyes.  He reaches for Jason's hand.  "Jason," he whispers, pulling it down to his tights, "Touch me."

Jason's eyes widen. " _Now?_ " he says in utter disbelief and slight panic. "But, they're  _waiting_ for us-"

"Jason," Tim begs, " _Please_."

Oh fucking hell, how is he supposed to resist that? "Tim, if we don't go out there in another minute or two, they'll come up looking for us-"

" _Please_." Tim's eyes are desperate, his face flushed.

It would be easy - so, _so_ easy - to just fall to his knees and suck Tim off, right now, right here. He knows just what he'd do, and Tim would fucking  _love_ it, would be stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming, his head thrown back and his knees giving out as Jason swallowed him down... He knows he could, _knows_ what it would do to Tim to have Jason's mouth on him.  Knows Tim would  _let_ him. 

Which is exactly why Jason  _can't_ do it.

He has to be careful. He can't push too hard, can't risk doing something that will leave Tim feeling confused and hurt and angry. 

It would be different, Jason reminds himself.  It would be utterly different from when he got his first blowjob.  But...

Jason bites his lip, hard, and pushes Tim down on the bed.  He yanks open the drawer of the bedside table, grabbing the slick and a couple of tissues.  Doing this...this is all right.  It's practically masturbation, and everyone does that, right?  It's not like you can give _yourself_ a blow job, not unless you're a contortionist. Besides, Tim had said, "Touch me," so that's what Jason will do. 

Instead of sliding to his knees, he sits down next to Tim, pouring slick into his hand and wrapping it around Tim's cock, jerking him fast and a little hard, the way he knows Tim likes it. Tim's eyes never leave his, and he reaches up to touch the skin just at the edge of Jason's mask. Jason can feel the spirit gum he'd used to stick the thing on pulling just a little. Then Tim cups Jason's face and leans forward to kiss him, hard and sweet. Jason's hand never stops.

When Tim's like this...it's always a rush. When he lets go, gives up all that control, all for _Jason_. It's almost shocking how different he is, arching under Jason's hands, sweating, thrusting up eagerly, uncontrollably, into Jason's fist. _Whimpering_ as Jason uses his other hand to thumb Tim's nipples.

But Jason can't let himself get _distracted_ , can't tug down his *own* tights and let Tim wrap a hand around him, because Bruce and Alfred are waiting downstairs, and if this takes much longer, they're gonna come up to find out what's wrong. And Jason does *not* want to be caught with Tim's pants down, let alone with his _own_ pants down. It's one thing for them to know Tim and Jason are sharing a bed, it's another to have proof that they're actually _fucking_. It's all about plausible deniability.

So he lets his hand slide up and down, slick and smooth and tight, until Tim bucks against him with a harsh cry, burying his face against Jason's neck and spilling over Jason's hand and onto the tissues. And he lets Tim kiss him, fierce and wonderful, but when Tim's hands start wandering lower, Jason catches his wrists and breaks the kiss to shake his head.

"They're waiting for us," he whispers against Tim's lips.  He leans his forehead against Tim's for a moment, closing his eyes behind his mask.

"But," says Tim, "But you-"

"Later," says Jason.  "You can take care of me later.  Right now we have to get down there before they come looking for us." 

Tim hesitates, then kisses him once more, quick and sweet.  "Thank you," he whispers into Jason's ear, before standing up and putting his costume back together.  Jason looks at him carefully, but other than flushed cheeks that could easily be written off as a blush, there's nothing to show what they've been doing.  He stands and grimaces a little as he adjusts his own cup, then smirks at Tim. 

 _You owe me, kid_ , he thinks, then frowns.  _No._   It's not like that.  Jason won't _let_ it be like that.  "Let's go," he says, more brusquely than he intends.  Tim gives him a slightly worried look, but doesn't say anything, just follows Jason out of the room and lets the door swing shut behind them.


End file.
